


Mirror

by Sira



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she was with Lee, she had faith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

„You’re beautiful. So frakking beautiful.“

Closing her eyes, she could hear the words again, the intonation with which he’d spoken them, the truth in his statement. Though when she opened her eyes, looked at herself in the mirror, she wondered what he saw when his eyes rested on her.

She was still a woman in her early fifties, and her body, her face couldn’t deny it. Not that she wanted to deny anything. She’d earned each wrinkle around her mouth, her eyes. They were reminders of the times she laughed, the times she worried, the times she cried. The cobweb of wrinkles had etched the story of her life into her skin, and this life was hers, for better or worse. She accepted herself, found what she saw when she looked at herself attractive enough. But beautiful…?

She touched her face as if trying to decipher the truth, knowing she wouldn’t find her answers this way. The answers were in him.

Sometimes she thought he could hear her thinking, as he stepped into her bathroom right then, came to stand behind her, all glorious young and naked man. It was no wonder they called him Apollo. He was worthy of the name of a god. How could any man be so beautiful, inside and out?

“Don’t look at yourself this way,” he chided softly, his hands coming to rest on her waist from where they travelled upward, stroking along the skin of her stomach. He didn’t stop there, never did, trailed higher and higher until he could palm her breasts with his hands, could stroke her nipples to tautness with the pads of his thumbs. His touch was never tentative, never hesitant but always tender. 

How did it come he knew that slow caresses would make her desire ratchet while hard, urgent strokes left her cold inside? Her former lovers, most of them older than Lee, could learn from him.

No one had ever touched her like Lee did. If touch was a drug, she had become an addict.

“What do you see in me?” she asked, only to lose her train of thoughts when he bent down, lifted her hair to press a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck. She trembled, feeling the taut cords inside herself loosen. When she was with him, he could make her forget, could make her believe. In herself, and even in the beauty he claimed to see.

“I see life. I see compassion. You’ve got the most attractive shell I know, but you are so much more. You are laughter and tears, giggles and hums. You are a riddle in yourself, one I hope I’ll never solve.”

She took a ragged breath, had to fight for the strength to look at him. Their gazes met in the mirror, held. There was warmth and certainty in his eyes, and there was love.  
He allowed his right hand to move lower but let his left rest over her heart, making her wonder if he could feel it race. 

It raced for him, always for him. Although she didn’t believe in happy ending, she hoped Lee was hers.


End file.
